LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 12

Asger's (Stark’s) thoughts now flew to Kundrick, the frail boy who had always sat without stirring at the back of the room for the duration of each day's lesson.  From the beginning   Asger had taken a liking to this shy, well-behaved boy who had appeared so serious, so grown up.

01- KUNDRICK DUFO

Asger had frequently pressed on him small toys or rare sweets but each time, after a polite thank you, Kundrick had, with admirable reserve, held on to the item until after the classes had ended and he gained his father's permission to keep the trinket. 

When his father had been taken away in chains the little boy had stood stiffly by, hands clenched at his side, bravely resisting any tears.  Of course, he would remember such a remarkable little boy well.  But then the struggle against Zakhertan Yozdek changed everything.

So, this was what had become of Kundrick! Asger mused, seeing no reason to doubt this segment of Alec’s accounts and presently wondered if his esteemed tutor Sorgun Dufo had lived to see his son's great accomplishments.

"The time has long been ripe for an open confrontation on a major scale to topple this present evil regime, My Lord."  Alec had just then startled Asger from his brief reverie. "Now, when the general assault starts under the leadership of the rightful Prince, other scattered pockets of resistance will join in and swell the ranks of the main army.  With such numbers the insurgent force will become invincible.”

"For this to happen, however, the timely appearance of the prince is a requisite, and of course,” Alec pausing, grinned wryly, "this can only be accomplished with your Lordship's assistance.  You alone, Lord Shonne Gulbrand has told us, know the true Prince's whereabouts."  Alec burrowed his anxious stare into Stark (Asger) and waited with bated breath for his response.

As Asger (Stark) had listened, inwardly he had been burdened with serious quandary. Tempting as all Alec’s accounts were, caution would not allow Asger to take them at face value and lay his total trust in Alec.  Although Alec’s accounts were most elaborate, and precise and some of it had already been verified by his trustworthy contacts over the years; still a good portion of it was unconfirmed. Moreover, despite his claim, Alec and Duan have clearly not achieved this remarkable feat without the benefit of added support.  Somewhere waiting in the wings could be a militia poised to strike on cue.

The absence of any intel from Heaven’s Gate Temple, for an unusual length of time, meanwhile, had been another grave concern for Asger (Stark). Consequently, Asger could not tell with measure of certainty, had no way of knowing how much damaging info had already been (relayed) leaked.

There was only one recourse however, to uncovering this ploy, as dangerous as that may be; but then again, if he were to go along, he would be sending Svein to a certain perilous danger. Is Svein competent enough to overcome it?   If not now, when?  If only he (Asger) had not been burdened by the security and wellbeing of Teuquob and the twins; he would have gladly accompanied Svein on this escapade, till the truth unfolded.

In the end Asger (Stark) decided to proceed, albeit with caution, to the end of this most dangerous game.

Alec’s outward composure and sincerity lapsing (failing) temporarily, he with unease shifted his body; in truth, he was fast losing his patience. What more could he say or do to bring about the desired result? His head throbbed with all that exertion; he felt inexplicably fatigued, yet his stubborn nature would not allow him to yield to the temptation of sleep. Meanwhile, even though Asger had seemingly concurred with Alec's latest arguments concerning   the prince, his eagerly awaited disclosure of the whereabouts, maddeningly so, was not forthcoming.

 “You have claimed that the two of you had acted alone; but usurper’s spies are numerous, how can I be ascertained you were not shadowed, albeit unknowingly, to this region (and to this mountain)?” Asger eventually spoke up after his prolonged consideration, even though he knew what the answer would be.

“Duan was the very best in his profession; he would have flushed them out in no time. As it were, he left a bloody trail in his wake. But that aside,” Alec chewed his upper lip, as he considered, then quickly decided against mentioning   the murder of those two monks. But then he committed another grave error. “There was an incident, I failed to report, my Lord; it may or may not have any pertinence to your respective concern.”

 “Oh?” Asger waited to hear more.

“After our stay at the ‘Heaven’s Gate Temple’, we came under pernicious attack by unspecified group of assassins, Duan wiped them out of course, and I can say with measure of certainty, that there was no such incidence after that.” 

As Alec did not know why the falcons were felled, he’d decided not to touch on that subject.  “It might have been secret messages from Duan’s contacts. Who’s to know; now that the villain was dead?”

“I can assure you Duan, with his conceit, felt no need for any backup; he tolerated my presence only just, perhaps it amused him to have me tag along. Even so, I sensed that he planned to do away with me no sooner than he’d accomplished his task. Furthermore, I venture a guess, the subterranean tunnel in all these years has been an effective deterrent, has it not? So yes, I can say with measure of certainty, that there has not been any breach (violation) to your respective security.” 

Unaware of his grave blunder Alec again stressed.  “I would like nothing better than to spend couple days recovering my Lord, but my conscience would not permit me. Time has come for the swift, effective action, as we are finally in position to do so now.  I again wish to remind you, my Lord, of the urgency of our situation and the serious consequences should Zakhertan  Yozdek's men reach the Prince first!”

Asger (Stark), bearing a strange expression, turned his sharp eyes to Alec and dourly asked, "So, that is your most immediate desire is it, to learn of the prince’s whereabouts?"

"May I trouble you to do so, my Lord?” Alec replied anxiously with a nod and then cast a quick glance at Svein who had his head down and seemingly was lost in deep contemplation.

By his reluctance, he is confirming my suspicions to be true; but how could this be?  After all, was not this youth by his own admission at the tavern, a good four-year senior to the lost Prince?

 Upon a second reflection, a wry smile registered on his lips. Fool the truth has been staring at you in the face all along, only you were too blinded to see it.

Despite his arrogance, a failing of his, he had to concede, the ingested potions had dulled his senses somewhat. Unbidden, anger gripped his heart, and he further admonished himself, thinking he could have spared himself all this affront difficulty and debasing.

Alec again snuck appraising glances at Svein as if seeing him for the very first time. But then, I would have missed out on this golden opportunity of meeting Lord Asger.  He then consoled himself.

He knows yet insists on playing this farce to the end. Asger was suddenly overcome with fatigue.  He had his own Demons to conquer. Blasted medicines…I wish I had not taken them earlier; no anecdote would wipe away the adverse effects till morrow.

“It is rather late, how about we retire for the night, and tomorrow at first light we can continue where we’d left off.” Asger, for the time being putting aside his misgivings, outwardly proposed.

Svein absently nodded, as he was sorting things out in his head.

Alec bit his lip to constrain his outburst. Stubborn old fox what further proof can I furnish to win your trust; oh, have it your way, I do feel rather exhausted, and a brief respite will do me good.  

Alec, on the outset appearing most agreeable, bid his good night to the two and watched them close the barn door securely behind them.

He had every intention of, after a brief rest, doing some reconnaissance; but no sooner that he reclined (tilted back) his body in his makeshift bed on the floor, than against his will, he immediately fell into deep, deep slumber.

                                                               ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 10

"Dufo, Kundrick Dufo?  Where have I heard that name before?” Stark (Asger) sounded a somewhat muted (whispered) query.

"Please forgive my presumption, my Lord, but, as I have understood it, you’re Lordship had the privilege of being tutored by numerous famed scholars in your youth, one of whom..."

"But of course!" Stark (Asger) raised an impatient hand recalling at once his esteemed teacher Sorgun Dufo and his son Kundrick; a meek little boy of two Kundrick was then, always accompanying his father to the study but remaining   attentive yet quiet as a mouse in the background.  Even so, Stark (Asger) stole a dubious glance at Alec.  "You are exceptionally well informed about things pertaining to me, sir."

Alec's response however was timely interrupted by an inquiry from Svein, and the details concerning Stark’s (Asger’s) tutor Sorgun, and son Kundrick were briefly relayed.

Stark (Asger) then lapsed into momentary silence, as images from the past, when he was but eleven years old, succinctly played out before his mind's eye.

                                                                      ~

                                    

In that fleeting moment, Stark’s (Asger’s) thoughts had trailed to this unusually tall, thin, distinguished scholar, clad in immaculate, black attire, with his deep, penetrating, lugubrious(melancholy) eyes and unchanging, serious expression who spoke softly with weighty words that commanded your undivided attention.  Perhaps the strictest of his tutors, Sorgun Dufo, had won Asger's lasting respect and awe.  From the beginning   Asger was enthralled by all the mystery that had surrounded his esteemed teacher Sorgun Dufo's past (previous years), and he recalled how tirelessly, but nonetheless fruitlessly, he had tried to get at the facts.  What little information he had at first procured had been gleaned over the longest while from hints his father and mother had let fall about this scholar.

01- SORGUN DUFO

 For unknown reasons, scholar Sorgun Dufo and his only son Kundrick had left their stately home in far off Fukken province under the cover of night, never to return.  They had already traveled an immeasurable distance towards their mysterious destination when, dogged by several misfortunes and the incurred expenses, they were left destitute and stranded in Toren province. 

Asger's father, Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, recognizing the scholars worth the instant of their chance encounter, had treated Sorgun with utmost courtesy and respect and, in keeping with his generous nature, had invited Sorgun to be his honored guest, lodged in their finest guest house for the duration of their indefinite stay. 

The old Lord's warm hospitality and lavish gifts had, in turn, constrained Sorgun to stay on longer at the Zhon residence and to become Asger's tutor in order to reciprocate a small measure of his host's kindness.

All seemed to go well until, one day quite unexpectedly, Lui Durek, a distant relative, visited them.  At the informal reception feast when Lui was introduced to Sorgun the visitor was taken aback at once with an undeniable shock.  Quickly masking it he extended his felicitations and offered a polite conversation.  At the first opportunity, however, he had discreetly pulled Lord Wutenzar aside and whispered something grievous into his ear, throwing a furtive glance over the host's shoulder at Sorgun Dufo, who was engaged in intense conversation with another guest.

"Are you absolutely certain of this?’ the Lord had demanded crossly in a whisper.

"Absolutely, undeniably so.", Lui responded, smiling sardonically.  "In all the years you have known me, have I ever led you astray, my Lord?"

02- LUI DUREK

Lui looked directly into Lord Wutenzar’s eyes, his face dark, his jaw set firm.  "Now you must act on this at once, your Lordship.  The culprit must be apprehended and brought to justice.  Imagine his gall, taking advantage of your kind, generous nature like that!"  Then, noting Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon 's frown, Lui scrambled to eradicate the damage, "Please forgive my presumption, my Lord.  I did not mean to, it was not my intention to...” he said contritely then, oddly enough, became tongue-tied.  In his exasperation in searching for the appropriate word his face contorted, appearing so absurd, so comical that Lord Wutenzar had been forced to constrain his amused laughter.

His stern expression thus erased, Lord Wutenzar nodded with a dismissive gesture, as if to say, don’t worry, no offense is taken.  I know you meant well.  You were overzealous in your conscientious efforts, as usual.  Meanwhile the Lord's keen senses had alerted him to how, even at this distance, the exchange had been ardently, though discreetly, observed by Sorgun and he'd noted Sorgun's subsequent fleeting, stiff grin.

 "You don't agree?” the family friend Hekin had asked just then loudly, shaking his head in astonishment, obviously misinterpreting Sorgun's momentary distraction.  Then, after looking about the room, Hekin affixed his eyes on Sorgun and abashedly apologized, his eyebrows raised in serious inquiry.

Subsequently to all seeming appearances Sorgun, with typical elegance, had immediately smoothed over the matter and proceeded to elaborate his opinion on the controversy under discussion.  As he reached out his hand to have his wine cup filled, however, he had again casually tilted his head and glanced sideways at Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  For a brief, awkward moment their eyes met.

Acting as if nothing had happened, the Lord smiled stiffly and looked away, feigning being lost in abstract thought.  Admittedly, Lui was renowned for his sharp memory, meticulous handling of details, keen observation skills and for his deductive reasoning.  That is what had made him a good censor.  Hmm, Lord Lord Wutenzar remained indecisive, nonetheless.  What perturbed him the most was that, up until that time, he had taken pride in his ability to accurately discern a man's character.  Never had he erred on this point; never had he been so completely duped.  Yet the presented facts…” No; regardless of all the indisputable, incriminating evidence, this case warrants further investigation,” he turned his stone gaze to a crow perched on a tree outside.

Lending a casual ear to Lui's continued urgings, Lord Wutenzar heaved a dejected sigh; then slowly rising from his seat, he motioned Lui to follow him to his study.  The ensuing conversation behind these closed doors had left Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, after a time, pale and highly agitated.

 Peeking in, Asger had observed in astonishment the color gradually draining   from his father's grim face and how, after pacing to and for with hands clasped behind his back, his father had suddenly halted and slumped, listless and resigned, into his plush chair.

 Lui, meanwhile, looking every inch, a beast on the prowl, had turned his face away in Asger's direction, hiding his feral grin of satisfaction.

Just then Asger's attention was drawn back to his father; for at that same instant Lord Wutenzar's gaze, riveted onto the painting on the far wall, became suffused with immeasurable fury.  Asger knew the scene well: a harmonious family gathering and banquet on the edge of the river Yawjun.  His teacher Sorgun had given him that picture not too long ago.  His curiosity now piqued, Asger strained his ears still more, but all he could catch was a reference to Sorgun, to a mockery and something about a crime of, ’adultery’, a vague word, the meaning of which he had not yet fully comprehended.  Added to his concern was his father's changed attitude, his reserved, cold indifference to Sorgun Dufo from then on (that time onward).  But this was something he could not openly inquire about, as it was, even the merest mention of the word “adultery” had instigated raised eyebrows, disapproving looks and frowns from his old nanny, mother and maiden aunt.

The mystery had eventually been resolved when one moonlit night, because sleep had averted Asger, feeling particularly restless, he had slunk out of his bed and after divesting his bed clothes, quietly put on some outer garments. Careful not to wake up any of the servants he’d then went outside and begun aimlessly strolling in the vast gardens. Veering this way and that, he had finally halted his ambling to gaze distractedly at the moon's rippling silver rays charting a course over the emerald surface of the man-made pond, as a lugubrious symphony of insects serenaded his ears. 

Soon after he had tired of this distraction and, with his hot blood craving adventure, bypassed the Jadatek pavilion. Veering behind a hill, he had delved into the forbidden sector of thick grove of ancient pines whose branches blotted out the starlit night entirely.

 Groping his way across this canopy of darkness he'd skirted another pond, crossed the stone bridge and headed straight for the peach groves, drawn by the exquisite scent wafting from the blossoms.  Advancing at a more leisurely pace, he'd enjoyed the light breeze fanning his hair and the soft pink blossoms tenderly caressing his face until his eye suddenly caught a dim light streaming from the far side.

Craning   his neck and inclining   his head, he'd pinpointed the location, his father's old studio, abandoned and hardly ever used since the new one had been built. 

Who or what could it be there at this ungodly hour?  Asger had hoped it would be a ghost or robber, a promise of a thrill to rejuvenate this monotonous night.  However, no thief could breach the heavy security.  Shaking his head dejectedly he'd told himself, in all probability and in view of the recently implemented restrictions on the servant's favorite pastime, gambling, it could be but only one thing. Yes, decidedly, some of the servants must have chosen this isolated spot for their illicit activities.  Asger had never understood their fascination over such a benign, innocuous game.

 Is it worth investigating? Should I bother or not? He’d lingered at the spot indecisively for a moment or two as he drew a circle on the ground with his right foot.  Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Who knows, it may well prove interesting. He simply shrugged, then sauntered towards the light.

When he'd gotten within hearing range of the building his ears were suddenly burned by his father's stern, icy tone as Lord Wutenzar confronted the tutor Sorgun Dufo.  Without thinking twice, Asger, in fear, ducked for cover. But this was too good to miss.  Steadying his heart, wildly thumping with curiosity and excitement, he'd then stealthily approached the open window to eavesdrop.

"I'm greatly indebted to you, my Lord, for the kindness you've shown both me and my son Kundrick.” Sorgun finally said after a prolonged silence.

"Are you mocking me?"  Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon took a step forward, glowering, barely able to contain his rage.

Asger had never seen his father this angry.  Inwardly he quaked out of concern for his tutor Sorgun.

"Please, my Lord."  Sorgun, mustering self-restraint, indicated a seat for the Lord, then, with permission, he sat down across from him. Sorgun cleared his throat then in a somber and most sincere tone he promptly resumed his say, "You have every right, my Lord, to despise me for what you perceive to be my deception, my concealing the truth, but please believe me, it was done with the best of intentions."

Sorgun disregarded Lord Wutenzar's disdainful grunt, "I did not wish to involve yourself or your family in what would most certainly be a messy, lengthy litigation, and I certainly could not make you an accessory to my so-called crime.  That has been the chief reason why I have withheld my unfortunate past from you as long as I did.  But this grievous, totally erroneous account given by Lui Durek...”  Sorgun held out his hand to stay the Lord's angry rebuke, "Please, I wish no disrespect to the gentleman himself, for in all probability he is relaying exactly the slander that has been circulated, and that has, no doubt also been confirmed by your investigators, as it being on the public record.”

Lord Wutenzar’s stone face did not waver (falter); his eyes filled with hurt, he morosely (dourly) looked away.

03-LORD WUTENZAR THUXUR MARROG ZHON

"You needn’t be concerned, my Lord, no one has breached your security," Sorgun rushed to reassure Lord Wutenzar, "it's only to be expected.  I would have acted the same had I been in your place.  This erroneous account of Lui Durek's has nevertheless obliged me to attempt to clarify the situation and, if nothing else, endeavor to set the record straight.”

“I owe your Lordship that much.  In absence of proof, however, I must beg your Lordship's indulgence until..."  He abruptly stopped short, seeing how, at this point, Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon was fidgeting in his seat, clearly displeased with the scholar's evasions.

Stop wasting my time! Lord Zhon had nearly snapped, but being fair-minded and wanting to give Sorgun an equitable chance, he had instead sat back, constraining   his displeasure and fixing his stern gaze on Sorgun, he then indicated for the other to continue (resume his say).

Sorgun was a proud man and did not take too kindly to being held under such doubting scrutiny.  He considered taking his leave in a huff, why should he bear such humiliation; however, he hesitated, mindful of the Lord's past kindness. Inwardly he struggled hence, to curtail his fury and, to forgive this debasing hurt.   His Lordship at least deserves an explanation.  It is quite natural for him to be concerned, for hasn't he in the last while entrusted his most precious son's education to me, (an accused) a suspected criminal?

Lord Wutenzar, meanwhile, noting the tutor's indignation, his inner turmoil as he struggled with certain defiance, anger, indecisiveness and the whole range of other, unreadable emotions on his face, regretted his manner and, softening   his gaze, gave Sorgun an encouraging smile. 

"Please do go on, sir.  As you can see, you have my undivided attention."

Sorgun, after momentary consideration, nodded thoughtfully and began, "To the best of my ability I will spare any embellishment and confide in you the true account of my past circumstances and my reasons for taking this precarious, unenviable path.  After which I will, without the least resistance, surrender my fate to your good judgment." His resolute stare earned the Lord's approving nod.

So that was at the root of my teacher’s (Sorgun's) indecisiveness, Asger, now shamefaced, had at once realized.  And of course, this also accounts for his earlier reluctance and apprehension! And I thought it might be …. Hmmm.  All along he had been considering making this determination, as well as this request, of my father.

"I would have long ago surrendered to the authorities, come what may, my own fate being of no consequence,” Sorgun exhaled a deep, dejected breath and looked away thoughtfully, "but you see, my concern over my son's welfare had prohibited me from taking the path of least resistance."  His pain filled eyes reverted onto Lord Wutenzar.  "After the ultimate betrayal, whom could I trust?"  He shook his head dismally.

"Foolishly I'd expected, or rather hoped, that the matter in due course would resolve itself and the true facts be disclosed.  Now I see I've been gravely mistaken for, far from being cleared, I've been wrongly slandered and already convicted without even the benefit of a just trial."

What Asger next heard had filled his heart with inexplicable feelings and had awakened him to the otherwise unknown, harsh realities of life. 

He'd learned how Sorgun Dufo had come from a long line of aristocrats who ranked high in Royal favor and had been endowed with a sizable fiefdom.  After his grandfather's untimely end, Sorgun's father, Kerek Dufo, being the elder son, inherited the title of Squire and the full responsibilities of the position.

 As his only offspring Sorgun knew that much to his own regret, eventually that restrictive life would be his as well. As it were, being educated extensively and grilled and drilled daily, Sorgun had grown up to become a worthy sophist literati and able politician.

 On top of this, he had acquired a natural talent for the financial aspects of every kind of business on the estate.  But his true interests lay elsewhere. 

Determined as he was to have his fill of life before being restricted in obligatory duties, he had, despite the family's discouragement, devoted much of his free time to furthering his skill in the martial arts. 

Excelling in swordsmanship, he would, as soon as he was of consenting age, often disappear on lengthy excursions in search of hair-raising experiences and excitement.

 Gradually his father Kerek Dufo eased off on the punishments, seeing they were of little use as a deterrent, and had allowed Sorgun to have his way, for the time being at least.

05 KEREK DUFO

Sorgun had suspected this having been partially due to his paternal uncle Minakos' convincing arguments on his behalf and so had remained most grateful for his intervention for the longest while. 

Minakos had been the one who had shown the most understanding and who had discreetly encouraged Sorgun to pursue his interests.  The bitterness in Sorgun's voice as he told of his uncle rather perplexed Asger at the time, but the answer was not far off.

After Sorgun was married, much to his parent's disappointment, he had ensued (kept on) with his eccentricities and not even the mourning period required for his deceased mother had deterred him from this practice.

 Upon his sudden (abrupt) return from one such adventure one night, however, he had unfortunately caught his sanctimonious father Kerek Dufo and his wife, Lady Linnsar, in a loving embrace during their secret rendezvous in the back garden.

 In his rage Sorgun had drawn his sword to behead them both but, resisting, had only slightly wounded his father with the flat of the blade.  Turning away, deaf to the curses and threats heaped upon him by Kerek (his father) and the pitiful pleadings of his faithless wife Lady Linnsar, he'd stormed out of there.

 By Sorgun’s uttered admission, all feeling had died in him then, except for the need to safeguard his infant son Kundrick.  Heading straight for Kundrick's room he'd snatched the baby from its warm crib and dashed outside into the just then abrupt (precipitous) rainstorm, in his mad state of mind, quite oblivious to the pelting rain, never to return.

 Forsaking all family, even his great love of swordsmanship, he'd hurled his precious sword far into the currents of the Yawjun River and from then on had wandered aimlessly, much like a vagabond, over the back trails of the vast countryside.

Eventually his son's survival had necessitated his return to the literary field once more and, being exceptionally talented, he'd carved out a meager living by tutoring the children of minor gentry and rich merchants from time to time.  He'd never lingered too long in one place for fear of being found out.

Sorgun vehemently swore on his grandfather's tomb that he had not taken their lives that night.  Their demise had come to his attention much later.

 "In all likelihood,” Sorgun speculated with an icy grimace, "my repentant father, Esquire Kerek, in his shame had finished the job for me.  It was the incompetence and corruption of the authorities that later on led to this erroneous conclusion and, the issuing of warrants for my arrest."

"If you are truly innocent, sir, and I don't doubt that you are you should have nothing to fear.” Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon said after a lengthy pause.  "I am sorry to hear that you have lost all faith in our judiciary process.  Regrettably, in many parts of the country, bad elements have taken root and infiltrated the process to undermine the probity of our courts, making mockery of our time-honored laws.  But, with persistence and an adequate outlay (dispensing) of funds, justice may still be had even there.”

His genuinely concerned gaze held Sorgun’s for a time then he added:

"Despite your success thus far in avoiding capture, you have still inadvertently injured the one thing you sought most to protect.  Don't you realize that, by your evasive actions, you have deprived your innocent son of his birthright and condemned him to a lifetime of hardship and misery?  I advise you therefore, for his sake if nothing else, to lay your trust once more in the judiciary system and surrender yourself to the authorities without further ado.  You may leave your son in my good care and relieve your mind of any undue anxiety.  I give you my solemn promise that I will do everything within my power, leave no stone unturned, to uncover the truth and extricate you from this wrongful indictment.  Wouldn't that be preferable to always being on the run, apprehensively looking over your shoulder, faced with an uncertain future?"

 Then, rising, he affectionately tapped Sorgun's shoulder and said, "Think this over carefully.  You need not reply just yet, but I expect an answer no later than tomorrow’s sunset."

Up until that time Asger had been intimidated by his father's stern persona, seeing him as an unbending, highly disciplined individual, strict in his adherence to convention, brilliant, articulate yet intolerant of weakness, a powerful being who put everyone at their unease and one whose presence always commanded respectful attention.  In short, he'd viewed his father more as a demigod than as a mortal man, a heavenly force he'd always striven to win the approval of. 

This unassuming, sincere manner, this compassionate side of his father had never been revealed to Asger for the sake of discipline, and so his ready championship of the unfortunate scholar had misted up Asger's eyes, and he'd found it hard to resist the urge to rush in and embrace him.

As it was, his father would have never approved of such an open display of affection and would have scolded him for eavesdropping on top of it.  Meanwhile Asger had noted how Sorgun had also been visibly touched by the concern and generosity (kindness) Lord Wutenzar had shown him.

 After pondering briefly, Sorgun, with lowered head, nodded his reply, his voice choked with emotion, "There is no need to wait.  I am, and always will be, most grateful (and beholden) to your Lordship for this consideration."

 He had then risen from his seat, straightened out his garments, and with all due humility, citing Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon as his benefactor, had respectfully bowed low to express his gratitude.

 He was about to fall to his knees when Asger's father rushed to stop him and helped him rise.  Saying that such acts were uncalled-for, he'd proposed they both go outside for a stroll to get a bit of fresh air.

Frightened lest he be found out, Asger had shrunk into the shadows on all fours and then taken to his heels.  Stealthily beating a hasty retreat, he'd made his way back to his own room without incident.

 In his excitement he'd not bothered to change and had quickly climbed under the covers but, try as he might, sleep averted him.  He stayed up the rest of the night, relieving in his mind all that had transpired, all that he'd done, heard and seen.

Just before dawn he'd eventually drifted into an exhausted sleep with a contented smile on his lips.  He was confident that his father, with his resourcefulness, would soon deliver Sorgun, now his favorite, most respected tutor, from these terrible difficulties.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ORDEAL (SECTION 2)

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE ORDEAL 

 (SECTION 2)

 It so happened that, when a heavy downpour of a subsequent time constrained her to take shelter earlier than usual in an abandoned cave-and yes, strangely enough no sooner the need arose, one without fail always mysteriously availed itself- fortuitously or not, she’d spotted a cluster of wild mushrooms at the interior of the cave just past the entrance, and mistaking them for an edible variety, she’d used some of it as a garnishing to liven up her otherwise dull fare. 

Consequently, shortly after ingesting it she’d lost all consciousness, remaining so, in that most vulnerable state for an unsettlingly undetermined time. Afterwards she’d shuddered at the thought of it, for imperiled (rendered vulnerable) such, she could have fallen prey to perhaps a malignant force or forces. As it were, the moment her eyelids were shut, an enormous size snake- a python of sorts appearing on the scene- had quietly coiled her in a protective circle and remained so for the entire duration of her sleep.

 Meanwhile the steed had already been well teetered some ways off inside the mouth of the cavern; though greatly alarmed, he could not run away. When she’d finally regained her consciousness, sensing a presence of sorts, she’d turned on her side somewhat groggily, with her eyes slid ajar to behold just then the gargantuan, long tapering cylindrical form silently slithering away to instantaneously (summarily) vanish into thin air.

 In her petrified (terrified) state, her already rigid limbs growing colder still, as if anesthetized, became fastened to the very ground. Eventually with the warm blood once more coursing through her veins she’d regained the full use of her faculties.  Needing a breath of fresh air then, she’d steadied her nerves and willed her feet to the outside; but one catastrophe besetting another; she’d this time come face to face with the most ferocious mountain lion guarding the entrance.

Two fiery gleams from crimson pupils had (shot) projected forth to pierce her very soul; then, in a blinking of an eye it too had evaporated, leaving her to doubt the validity of this intense and frightful experience. Ghostly white, her hand resting on a pounding, palpitating heart, she’d after a spell, dismally thence had shaken her head and took in a calming breath.

Get a grip on your sense’s girl! It’s nothing more than a bogus, surreal imagery. Biting the corner of her upper lip, she then loudly reasserted: “There’s nothing before me. It’s only a cruel hoax of my imagination, an elaborate hallucination, or perhaps, the remnant of the nightmare!” For what other explanation could there be, still, it’d felt so real!  

Oh, but this is so disconcerting- in my solitude my mind has begun playing such tricks on me! Her forehead creasing, with a frown she again inwardly aggrieved. I’m increasingly becoming delusional; and how long will it be, before the impending insanity? This wildlife abstinence besieged by this abject, unearthly silence, living each day on the precipice, how much more can I, must I endure? Shall I ever reach my objective, or shall I be worsted (defeated) way before any true chance is gained? Thus far I’d stood firm in my belief of Heaven’s guidance and protection; but what if I’m, I’ve been wrong all along? Could I in fact, perhaps, cast under the spell of evil mountain spirits, am being led astray, driven into the very core of the destructive fires of the Underworld; or equally worse, be trapped permanently in the sinister web of abysmal loss?

                                                                                      ~

Thankfully, subsequent days nothing untoward had happened, nothing at all worth mentioning. Through sheer willpower she’d regained her full sensibilities and once more focused her attention on achieving the task at hand (major objective).

The hardest ordeal to overcome however, had been the ever-present weird quiet and the unsettlingly persistent monotony that had by then expanded till it’d stilled the very wind and engulfed the all-encompassing air. Meanwhile, the ache of loneliness growing incessantly strong, had by degrees gripped her heart, her very soul in such an all-consuming vise that it had dangerously at times distorted full facts, consumed life’s least joy, diminishing any or scant hope. Her sanity teetering on the brink, of late she’d entertained a vehement hanker, that her constant, albeit phantom companion be somewhat manifest, regardless of whatever the form!

On this singular morning with the invariable concern still pestering her mind, before setting out on the next leg of the journey she’d voiced her pent-up desire, then laughed out loud at her own folly, her silliness for doing so.

After an incessant, grueling ride where they’d ascended the precariously hung narrow strip of the goat’s path that semi-circled a steep cliff and then negotiated a difficult, rocky terrain- by late afternoon of the subsequent day, she and the horse had finally got some reprieve when they’d reached a relatively sheltered, level, grassy patch.

Her face now gently caressed by the subdued winds, in her exhaustive state she was soon lulled into a consistent stupor (trance) by that ever-present monotonous, unnatural quiet; ergo she rode on with a hung head, her mind lost in a miasma of obscure imagery- leaving the more alert steed to at will pick the course. When the mount suddenly halted and neighing threaded his hoof nervously on the ground, Teuquob snapped out of her hypnotic reverie, sullenly raised her head and looked bleakly on ahead not expecting much of any variance.

What’s this, another phantom?

Remarkably however, what she’d perceived did not, as in the past, spontaneously dissipate or instantly vanish into thin air. This time around the illusory mental image persisted (lasted) and remained altogether solid.

Oh, but how can this be? Disbelieving her eyes she rubbed them, and then with a focused vision anew looked on. But no mistaking it… There, up ahead her eyes still beheld a rather pleasant looking, long haired, clean shaven young man who was not much older than she and what’s more, was clad in strangely familiar attire. His bearing was immaculately clean and well composed. Armed with a staff, he supported a bundle over one shoulder.

Unabashedly (brazenly) meeting her inquisitive eyes, he simply nodded as if in answer, yes, you are not envisioning me. I assure you, I’m flesh and bones! 

 

Then sporting a most charming smile he quickly advanced with bold strides towards her. His friendly demeanor had at once disarmed her, but not her nervous steed, which now fidgeted terribly and strove to run away. As she dismounting, tried to calm the beast, the young man meanwhile at closer proximity now, graciously, with an elaborate gesture of the hand and bow of the waist extended his verbal polite greetings to her.

So elated had she been at the fortuity (prospect) of meeting a sole companion, that the strange occurrence did not strike her as being odd till much later: That in this inhospitable, God-forsaken stretch she would chance on a being, a relatively disarmed one, on foot, so well preserved- with hardly a scratch on him, totally composed, spotlessly clad and propitiously, speaking to her in her own native dialect. Instead, quite ecstatic, she’d at once turned to squarely face him and to extend her likewise polite greetings. Just then, however, the reins that she’d held onto rather laxly got violently yanked from her hand. The spooked beast let out a frightful neigh and arching its back trampled the air up high with his fore hoofs (hoofed feet) before summarily bolting in lightning speed.

But her attempt at rushing after the steed had at once been vigorously curtailed by the amicable stranger who’d politely then proceeded to give his mitigated reasons, at the same time advising her on the futility of such a course.

“Let him be.” He insisted. “The path from here on being steeper, you’ll have no further use for the beast of burden. You’ll be doing him a favor. He stands a better chance of surviving on his own. Who knows, he may even find his way back home; however far that may be!” He cheekily sized her up then grimaced. “But come, come, you needn’t worry- you are in good hands now! Oh, and don’t worry about your stuff (belongings) either,” He rushed to reassure her. “I have here in these bags,” he pointed to the two bundles that he carried over one shoulder, “everything you’ll ever need and more. It’ll be my pleasure to share.” His apparent generosity of the heart coupled with his tranquil, melodious tone had an almost bewitching effect on her, at once erasing any suspicion or misgivings from her mind. Besides, she’d wanted and chose to believe in the stranger’s virtue and moral rectitude, overriding the otherwise instinctual warnings, deeming him to be probably untrustworthy and even dangerous- likened to a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

What’s more, in a short span even the residue reservations had melted away as true to his word, he’d proven quite competent in expeditiously tending to all her needs. The shared, the consumed dried rations amazingly enough, had promptly restored her to her prior good health and vigor; meanwhile, the special brew he’d insisted on her partaking a sip or two, had instantly with remarkable potency, cleared the cobwebs from her mind, erasing least doubt and fear. Moreover, as a lasting boon, her cognizance and thoughts from then on had become lucid, more translucent and focused. At least that’s what she’d deemed, rather, believed it to be true!

The strange ointment which he’d concocted from the combination of few indigenous plants and powdered ingredients that he had on him, had in due course brought about the most miraculous effect on all her cuts and bruises.

 The spare garment, cape and footwear which he’d so generously produced from his bundle -one of the supposed offerings destined for an “Earth Goddess” of a specific shrine he’d hoped to visit- now being bestowed on Teuquob, meanwhile, fit her perfectly and so comfortably that it was beyond belief. The exquisitely embroidered damask, unusually durable, light and breathable, kept her body’s temperature moderately cool during physical exertion in the daylight hours and perfectly warm and snug during inactivity and sleep despite the frigid temperatures of nighttime.  Meanwhile, every step she took from thereon was like walking on air or on clouds.

Necessities well disposed, as means of cementing the relationship and hoping same time to goad (prod) her into doing the same- he’d somewhat reluctantly and bashfully relayed his tragic personal history: Claiming to be of a young lad from an old established aristocratic family from Kontu that unfortunately due to unavoidable circumstances, while he was in his early teens, his family had fallen on hard times. Bent on upholding of what was just and honorable his illustrious father had sought retribution; unfortunately, with dire consequences. Ensuing years of retaliation and much bloodshed, he, the last of his line, finally seeing the light through the rigors of covert spiritual discipline, had long at last broken free from the ongoing vendetta and embarked on this religious quest. Hinting at an unimaginable atrocity, and some of it by his own hands, then a most grievous personal loss, details of which, being still too fresh, too painful for him to recount: he’d, after having ignited her curiosity and fueled her wild imagination, gracefully abstained from revealing any further.

She had no reason to doubt his story. Nor could she fathom the true motive, even if she did, for the weaving of such an elaborate account that would have ultimately ensnared the wisest, the absolute disbeliever in such a potent net. Meanwhile she’d relented about her earlier incertitude and so came to confess of her actual name being that of Teuquob, not Jiense. Despite her gratitude however, she’d remained (tight-lipped) hesitant to recount or to reveal the least bit of her personal history, deferring it to later time instead.

 He’d been both kind and understanding- masking not so well his apparent curiosity- by not pursuing the matter or prying into the reasons for her prior deceit. Afterwards, the two walking alongside, he’d readily volunteered his other admirable qualities, cloaked in false modesty of course. Overall as he appeared most sincere and kind, his amicable words soon won him her unbiased confidence. Of late she had even entertained the notion of forgoing the wait and unburdening herself entirely, without qualm, to this most sympathetic, compassionate individual. Observing him from the corner or her eye, rather discreetly she nodded to herself, yes, perhaps this evening, after the repose will be an appropriate time.

It turns out, he beat her to it.

They had not gone far that afternoon, when he’d abruptly halted and turning to face her, “Please don’t think me too intrusive, but your ladyship is on a similar quest as I, are you not?” he’d suddenly, to her astonishment, blurted out.

“That depends on the kindness of fate sir.” Her rash, ambivalent answer had at once escaped her lips; for amidst shock, she was inwardly pondering on what had given her away. Was it her demeanor, the manner of speech …What? Teuquob, granted a rare name, was merely her personal name, known only to immediate family members and a few intimate people.  He could surely not have made the connection. In Kontu she’d been sequestered most of her life in private quarters, there was little likelihood of him ever knowing anything about her- even if he’d happened to be, as he’d claimed, a prior aristocrat from her native land. Unless!?... Through the trusted grapevine, she’d heard of the existence of DFOCA (Deadly force of covert assassins) an elite network of spies and assassins recruited from all walks of life, in the secret employ of Hedenko. The special force, being party to all confidential information, had perpetuated and maintained a vast record on all key Kontu citizens, civilians, military and nobles alike. Nothing, however minute, escaped their detection or enumeration. The often-utilized knowledge, had spread fear and dread throughout the country, reaching far beyond the national borders!

But no! She quickly rejected that notion as well. No, he couldn’t be one of those butchers; there had to be another reason for his stark (blunt), startlingly keen perception.

From the corner of her eye, she studied him a while longer even though she’d desperately wanted to learn the extent of his knowledge, how much more did he know and was not telling?  But instead masking her resurgent unease, she presently smiled and quickly intoned. “But please do not refer to me in kind. I’d rather be addressed plainly, as Teuquob.”

“Though we are far from any civilization, I still wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to continue on with this impropriety- being guilty of blatant violation of protocol by addressing you by your personal name my Lady.” At once he’d vehemently objected; but as she insisted, relenting, he’d agreed to bend the rules of etiquette a little. “Oh, very well, as we are both cast perhaps by “Heaven’s” secret design into this wilderness, I suppose it won’t hurt to transcend some social barriers.” After a winning smile, with an elaborate bow- his hand in a semicircle sweeping the air- he’d gallantly consented. “In truth, I hate all that contrived ostentatious, pompous nonsense anyhow!” Looking away, he’d then mumbled to himself. “But I am rather offended and should really be cross with you for pegging me a DFOCA spy…Especially since I’ve said and done nothing to warrant that. Pray tell me, what further proof you need of my sincerity and of my good will?” He looked askance at her, then half turning chewed on the words, “Humans!”  

Before she could respond however, anew facing her in an altered mood, he’d with an amicable tone suddenly interjected: “Then again, it was providence that threw us together. An encouraging thought! Hmm, we must therefore, for the sake of harmony, strive to be more lenient, more tolerant of any shortcomings and not take any offence- whether it is in the form of misspoken words, acts or thoughts- to heart. Don’t you agree?” But his question seemingly did not warrant any response, as he without a pause continued. “The fault lies with me; in not completely winning your confidence, I humbly therefore offer my apologies! Absolute trust, basis of any friendship, after all, must be earned.”

Dumbfounded by this lecture, she’d just looked up at him, seeing him as if for the first time, but now in a different light. A truly complex individual, a bit paranoid perhaps and interchangeable as the wind, he was. Furthermore, underlying his seeming humility, she’d detected his feelings of annoyance, and a certain arrogance smothered in impatience.

This time he was truly irked by her. But mastering his outrage, he simply lowered his eyes and in thoughtful air stroked his chin. “Hmm. Unfortunately, yes, there is no other recourse my L… um, correction, Teuquob; you must ascent this terrible mountain that lies ahead if you so desire to reach the intended place of warship.” Looking up, he intoned earnestly, his face the very picture of a concerned sponsor. “But take heart for I can be of great service to you. I know what’s at stake and what’s to be expected; with all my abilities placed at your disposal, you needn’t be dismayed (or be afraid of failing). After all, and please don’t think me impertinent or presumptuous: For I say this with deep conviction: Yes, I must have been planted here by providence, as nothing is per chance; doubtlessly to see to it that you’ll fulfill your aim!”

A magnetic, winsome smile brushed his lips as he again startled her with the subsequent revelation. “Hmm; yes, you may also erase those worry lines, for Ensa is all right. She made it back O.K. The rough (thug) Yoansu meanwhile after an extensive search has deemed you to be dead…Perished in some deep chasm or at the maw of a voracious beast.  He’s long since called off his goons!”

“How did you…?” She sharply looked up, abruptly falling silent. Was he clairvoyant, able to foretell the future as well as decipher her thoughts (read her mind) and know her heart’s innermost desires?

Not quite. I told you the things you needed to hear. He wryly mused, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, you can say that; I’m somewhat a mystic.” He devilishly chuckled, meanwhile, outwardly answering her subsequent, silent query.

Observing her further unease, with a glib tongue he rushed to quickly add. “But I do hope you are not offended or least bit frightened by it? I do humbly apologize for my transgressions. This ability, newly gained boon or a curse has been the result of my long years of extensive spiritual training that had also encompassed rigors of meditation.  Yet if it makes you least bit uncomfortable, I’m more than willing to curtail, that is to refrain, as a sort of courtesy - as I’d done so already since our first meeting till now- from using this skill.  If you so desire, I’ll certainly abide by your wishes, to ensure you of your absolute right to privacy?”

She was thinking, you are true gentlemen, sir! When she, speechless, nodded her head.  

“It shall be as you desire!” he smiled amicably (delightedly). She was oh so naïve!

“I do apologize for getting on ahead of myself.” Lowering his gaze for a spell, he ejected sincerely. “After all, as fellow travelers on a serious quest, we must first learn to be at ease with each other; and only after a sufficient time perhaps become serious confidents, if not soul mates! And please do forgive my reiteration: the foremost basis, the core of any lasting relationship is trust, is it not? Taking due liberty,” he swallowed, shunning her eyes and looking every bit vulnerable.

“I now have a declaration, a sort of ignominious confession of my own to make: Despite the years of pedagogy and all my spiritual discipline, of late solitude was beginning to wear on my nerves. I craved the companionship of a single human being. Therefore, I’ve erred, begging your pardon now for all my unsolicited exuberance and for my however unintended, taken liberties (audacity) since our chanced meeting in this forlorn, desolate corner of the world.” He rejoiced when he again elicited the favorable response.

                                                                                ~

 

(END OF SECTION 2)

(MORE SURPRISING EPISODES WILL UNFOLD IN THE NEXT POST OF THE ORDEAL SECTION  3)